


Closer

by vesper_house



Series: Before Dawn [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DCU (Movies), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Clark, Daddy Kink, M/M, Oral Sex, Top Bruce, they just fuck alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 04:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6180958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesper_house/pseuds/vesper_house
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after in Clark's apartment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> In which Clark puts the "power" in "power bottom". Ehehehehe. 
> 
> \---

 

November 14th

\---

The sun is up, so Clark is up as well. So is Clark’s dick.

He wakes up softly from a peaceful, dreamless sleep. The blood in his veins greets the day with a happy hum. Being an early bird definitely had its perks. Raging morning glories – not so much. Still, it is Saturday, he does not have to go to work, so maybe he could rub one real quick under the covers…

Except there is nothing covering him. He lays in his bed naked, nuzzled against someone who just might be the world’s greatest blanket hogger. Clark’s eyes open wide as the memories from last night start to take shape in broad daylight. Even his  _ ears _ go pink. It is not that he had a boring sex life up until this point, no. However, it seems like he was not fully aware of just how  _ many  _ utterly filthy things he enjoyed. Like it or not, Bruce revealed a part of him that was far more perverted than the regular Clark Kent.

Bruce Wayne. Currently rolled up into a cocoon and sound asleep in Clark’s bed.

Clark pets the other man’s hair very carefully, then follows the shape of his brows with one fingertip. This is… nice. The tranquility of an early morning shared with a lover. Right now it so easy to mute the sounds of the world and not feel guilty about it. Clark hesitates for a moment longer before giving in to temptation. He moves to put his lips on the…

“What time is it?”

Clark is so surprised he nearly falls from the bed.  

“Uhmm, uh, around a, uh, six?...” He mumbles.

Bruce grunts miserably.

“For fuck’s sake…” he says quietly, eyes shut. “Don’t wake me up until eight.”

“You could at least share,” Clark tugs at the duvet to make a point. The sound of Bruce’s voice is enough to make the corners of his lips go up.

Bruce sighs but at the same time raises the duvet invitingly. Clark immediately snuggles into him, leaving no room for imagination about his current state.

“What the hell,” Bruce frowns, “I’ve made you come three times yesterday.”

“Like you’ve said, that was yesterday,” Clark replies. He does not want to put any pressure on Bruce, so he keeps his hands to himself.

“All you can get is a heartfelt handjob,” Bruce says with a sigh, “during which I will fall asleep. Just don’t take it personally.”

“You know what I want…” Clark whispers.

Wayne cracks one eye open.

“How do I put this gently…” he says gruffly, accentuating every word. “Daddy is  _ old. _ He’s not a teenage hotshot with a ridiculously short refractory period anymore.” 

“I’m not a teenager,” Clark responds.

“That thing poking my stomach begs to differ.”

“And you’re not  _ that _ old.”

“Wait and see how you’re gonna feel at my age.”

Clark decides to try his luck one last time before surrendering. He puts tentative kisses all over Bruce’s face.

“Daddy, come on…” A sweet smooch between Bruce’s brows. “Please?” He brings their noses close, trying for an Eskimo kiss. “Pretty please?” Finally he places a series of quick, gentle pecks on the other man’s lips.

“Nine hells… You’re gonna be the death of me.” Bruce groans but does not seem dissatisfied at all. “Get me some coffee first, would you?”

“Uh, I’ll have to make a run downstairs then. I don’t have a coffee maker.”

“Well then what are you waiting for?” Bruce lays on his back, eyes closed. “Triple non-fat latte, not too much foam, no sugar, light cinnamon.”

“Triple?” Clark asks. “Aren’t you gonna get a heart attack?”

“Careful son, you’re walking on a thin ice,” there is a small smile on Bruce’s sleepy face.

Clark gets up from the bed, taking his damaged glasses from the nightstand as he goes. He puts on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Sighs. Tries to make his erection a little less obvious with a few hard tugs at the base… and pretty much fails the task. To compensate, he wraps a checked flannel shirt around his middle.

“I don’t have any condoms left by the way,” Bruce watches Clark through half-closed eyelids. “You could also get some real lube.”

“Coffee, condoms, and lube,” Clark says in a cheerful voice, “throw in a pack of smokes and we have the classiest grocery list ever.”

“I am the embodiment of class,” Bruce smirks, “you on the other hand look like a horny college kid.”

“Don’t be condescending, I know you like it,” Clark retorts with a grin. “Don’t go anywhere while I’m gone.”

“Take your time,” Bruce says with a drowsy sigh.

Clark has to use all of his willpower in order not to use the super speed. It frustrates him greatly that everything could be done so much  _ faster. _ Keeping a secret identity intact was a chore he truly despised. Yet deep down he knows that is not what really bothers him: he has been dealing with the double life long enough to get somewhat used to it. What makes him kind of uneasy is that he is so… compliant towards Wayne. Clark bites the inside of his cheek. Truth is, secretly he  _ likes  _ being told what to do. Especially when it comes from tall, dark, handsome men with questionable morals.

There is a huge mirror at the nearest 24/7 pharmacy. He catches a glimpse of himself and halts. He looks, for lack of a better word,  _ glowing. _ His fair skin has the healthy, peachy undertone of a well-rested individual, lips are a bit redder, eyes bright and sharp. Even though his hair is a complete mess – he really should have done something with it before leaving – he seems fresh and full of life like catkins in the spring.

“Hi, can I help you?”

Pharmacist’s voice reminds Clark why he got here in the first place. He hastily asks for Trojan’s and K-Y, hoping he does not seem too eager to put them to use. Fortunately there is no line at the local coffee shop. He almost runs back to his place, careful not to spill the triple latte.

_ God damn it, I really am acting like a horny teenager. _

There is only silence greeting him as he enters. For a painful fraction of a second he thinks that Bruce has left but no: the billionaire is still in bed, covered from head to toes. Clark lets out a snort.

“Hey there, giant burrito,” he yells, “your coffee’s here.”

A muffled  _ mhmm _ and nothing else. Clark moves to take the pillow off Bruce’s head. He trails the other man’s neck and shoulders with hot, wet kisses. Before he knows it, Bruce responds with a kiss on the lips, open and full of promises that make Clark shiver with anticipation. Bruce reaches for the cup and takes a sip.

“This is good.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Clark says and wets his lips.

Bruce looks him in the eye. Smirks the way he usually does.

“You have the most intense bedroom eyes I’ve ever seen on a guy,” he says, not breaking their eye contact.

“What can I say,” Clark replies, throat tight from desire, “eyes are the mirror of the soul.”

There is a minor change on Bruce’s face as he continues to drink his coffee.

“I think I’m gonna let you do most of the job this time,” he says between sips, “take your clothes off.”

Clark grips his t-shirt and starts pulling.

“Slowly,” Bruce says. It sounds almost like a command.

Clark stops altogether. After a moment he gets up from the bed and stands in the middle of the room. If Bruce wants a show, he will give it to him. There is a visible flash of approval in Wayne’s gaze. Clark kicks off his shoes, then gets rid of the flannel still wrapped around his waist. It lands on the floor, followed by his sweatpants and socks. Next he unveils his abs and chest, struggling not to lose the last shreds of composure. Finally he takes off his boxers, watching as Bruce touches himself under the covers, still drinking the damn coffee.

“Come here,” Bruce’s voice is so casual it actually makes Clark a little angry.

He drops on top of Bruce and kisses him hungrily, trying to wipe that smug expression off his face. Then he moves down to his neck, collarbones, chest, licking and biting along the way, determined to bring Bruce to the point where he will not be able to talk anymore. He flicks his tongue around the other man’s nipple.

“I’m afraid that does not work for me, baby,” Bruce says. “I know some guys like it but I’m completely numb.”

“Oh,” he stops and looks up, panting slightly, “what is it that you like then?”

“You.” Clark’s heart skips a beat. “Here’s a hint though: my bellybutton is very sensitive.”

Clark simply has to steal another coffee-flavored kiss before dropping his head low. At first he licks the skin all around the bellybutton, not sure what else he could do, but when Bruce’s stomach muscle start to clench, he presses on it gently with a tip of his tongue. A small gasp finally escapes his lover’s mouth, which gives him a boost to get creative. If only he could use his powers, make Bruce’s skin tingle from the cold of his breath replaced with the wet heat of his tongue…

“Suck me,” the order is accompanied by an insistent hand on Clark’s head, so he wastes no time and moves lower.

Turns out Bruce is only a little hard. Clark feels insecure all of a sudden, so he tries to hide his disappointment by instantly swallowing Bruce’s mostly soft dick and forcefully sucking on it. For a petrifying, gut-wrenching moment nothing happens and Clark is close to panic but then,  _ oh thank goodness, _ Bruce starts to grow in his mouth, gets bigger with every passing second. Clark lets out a surprised  _ mmmph! _ at the peculiar sensation. His mouth is getting filled to the brink with warm flesh. Bruce does not really have a truly impressive penis in terms of length – Clark is pretty sure that he has a longer one. However he is rather slim and smooth, whereas Bruce is thick, meaty, pulsating with massive veins, his balls big and heavy and Clark could just stay there for  _ hours. _ He has to stop for a second to catch a breath, stroking now fully erect dick with both hands. Slobber runs down his chin as he looks up to meet Bruce’s feverish stare.  

“You are pretty damn pleased with yourself, aren’t you baby,” the man in question says and downs the rest of his coffee.

Clark realizes that he is smiling like a schoolboy who got an A on a math test. Bruce throws the lube at him.

“Get yourself ready for me,” he says and unwraps a condom.

“You really gonna make me do all the work.”

“Be good for daddy,” Bruce smirks merrily.

Clark rolls his eyes and squeezes some lube on his fingers. The angle feels all wrong as he pushes one of them inside. Somehow it is far less enjoyable than when Wayne did it to him. He adds another one inside, wondering if it is possible to reach his prostate in this position.

“Why are you frowning?” Bruce asks. “Does it hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” Clark answers. “It just that… Feels better when you do it.”

“Next time, promise.”

Again with these words. Next time. Promise. This is not the end. Clark almost whimpers from the fire burning brightly under his skin. He drips some more lube on Bruce’s shaft and positions himself so he can sink onto it. Before he does that, he runs his hands slowly up and down the other man’s body – after all he did not really have a chance to do that earlier. His palms wander through the broad chest, toned stomach, strong sides and buff arms, admiring every inch of bare skin. Bruce’s dick is sliding between his ass cheeks, slippery with lube, and suddenly it is all too much to handle. The sunlight somehow makes it more  _ real, _ the fact that he is stark naked on top of another man, this exquisite, dreamy man who for some reason finds him desirable enough to come back for more, and Clark wants him so badly that he is about to… About to…

“Hey, hey,” Bruce says very softly, “what is it? Second thoughts?”

“No, sorry,” Clark blurts out quickly. “Just got a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“No reason to be sorry,” Bruce gives him a peck on a cheek. “Have you done this before?”

“Riding? Not with a guy, no.”

Bruce pulls him closer for a kiss. Clark falls down on his elbows, letting himself get lost in the sensation and forget about how nervous he is. He can feel strong hands stroking his sides reassuringly. 

“Don’t be shy,” Bruce murmurs against his lips. “I’ll help, okay?”

Clark nods meekly, trying to calm down. Bruce takes his own dick in one hand, the other splayed on Clark’s chest.  

“Ready?”

“Yeah, yeah, just do it…  _ aah! _ ”

Bruce raises his hips to push himself inside, gently but unwaveringly. Clark is a bit shocked at how easily his body adapted to the rock hard intruder. Their lips meet again as Bruce fucks him shallowly. 

“Feels good?”

“Oh yeah…”

“Now try to push yourself against me, alright?”

Clark obliges. Bruce grips him by the hips, imposing a more steady rhythm. One, two, three, four, five pushes and Clark starts to get a hold of it. Back and forth, back and forth… pretty much like riding a horse.

“Atta boy,” Bruce whispers.

Clark observes his lover’s face the whole time. Sweat is pooling on Wayne’s upper lip, his eyes are half-closed but focused. Age made his features more defined, sharper, beautifully  _ raw. _ Without a warning, he starts to delicately tease the stretched rim of Clark’s entrance.

“See how hard you got me? It’s all for you, baby…”

Clark moans and licks into the other man’s mouth, moving his hips a little faster. Then he gathers up his courage, pulls up and straightens his back, so that now he is sitting on Bruce’s dick and  _ oh god, _ this is the best feeling ever. Bruce sucks in a breath, greedy hands kneading Clark’s butt cheeks as he moves back and forth, back and forth…

“You’re a natural,” Bruce says with admiration.

Clark cannot possibly think of any suitable comeback. He just smiles, biting hard on his lower lip. He shifts a little to the back, finding support on Bruce’s thighs. This is  _ good, _ the way he can decide about how hard or fast he wants it, setting a pace he finds the most satisfying. Bruce starts to stroke his dick.

“No,” Clark catches his hand. “I wanna see if I can come like that.”

“Oh my god,” Bruce makes a face like he is in pain. “I’ve made you up inside my head, right? You’re too fucking perfect…”

Clark grins and grabs Bruce’s other hand as well. Their fingers entwine tightly. Now they look more like actual lovers than just… just… whatever it is that they are. At least Clark does not want to think about it right now, not when Bruce’s fat cock is deeper than ever before. He quickens the tempo of his movements. Perhaps he should try it differently, not back and forth but up and down…

“Oh shit!” Clark exclaims. This is it, just what he needed but had not even realized up until this point. He all but jumps repeatedly so that Bruce’s member slips out of him entirely and then slams back again. Lube is dripping everywhere, adding some pornographic sounds to their coupling. Clark closes his eyes because  _ fuck yes, _ he is going to come soon with a force of a fucking solar flare. This is more than lust – it is a pure glee of being alive.

“Clark!”

Just a little more, and more, and another…

The bed breaks with a loud cracking noise.

For a second Clark is so startled that he does not do anything, just looks around like a moron, and then snorts with laughter. However, Bruce is having none of it: he flips them on the other side of the bed, places Clark’s legs over his shoulders and fucks into him like a machine, making Clark scream with every thrust. It does not last long before the billionaire comes with a shout that belongs on a battlefield. Clark swallows it straight from his lips, yanking his own leaking cock. He writhes as he reaches climax, the thrill of it reaching his fingertips, his toes, the top of his head.

They lie down there rattling, shivering, damp with sweat and lube and cum.

Clark is nearly sure that Bruce fell asleep, but then the other man lifts his head a little so he can have a look at Clark.

“…Brown spot.” He says in a tiny voice.

“What?” Clark asks, puzzled.

“Your eyes are blue but there is a brown spot in your left iris,” Bruce explains. “I haven’t noticed before.”

“Not many people have.” Clark says, smiling tiredly. “Heterochromia. I guess that at the moment it’s the only hetero thing about me.”

“…That was terrible.”

“Given the circumstances, I’m kinda proud of myself.”

“Don’t you ever say it again.”

“Make me.”

Bruce shakes his head and puts Clark’s legs down. He pulls out his dick with a short hiss.

“What is more, you can’t ride me ever again,” he says as he ties up the condom. “You nearly broke my hip.”

“You know, I almost wish it was your hip and not my bed.” Clark says. “It’s not even paid off yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Bruce says briefly and continues before Clark has a chance to protest: “What kind of bed is it anyway? Made of matchsticks?”

He flops on the broken side of the bed to emphasize his point. Two or three more planks break under his weight. Bruce looks at Clark. Clark looks at Bruce.

The windows in the apartment shudder slightly from their laughter.

Clark takes a deep breath to calm himself down. In contrast, Bruce is fucking losing it.

“It wasn’t even that funny,” Clark coughs up.

“I know!” Bruce agrees and laughs some more.

Clark realizes that this is the first time when he sees Bruce smiling like that: wide, open, eyes crinkled. Honest. Happy.

The pang in his chest feels awfully a lot like falling in love.

“Oh fuck, I think I’m high on endorphins.” Bruce says and turns to face Clark. “You promised me pancakes.”

“Seriously? Wasn’t the mind-blowing orgasm enough for you?”

“Oh yes baby, it fed my soul but unfortunately not my stomach.”

Clark lets out a long groan.

“Can’t you just call your servants?”

“Huh. It’s been a while since I’ve made Alfred furious.”

“Alfred?”

“My butler,” Bruce gets up from the damaged bed, “but he’s much more than that.”

“…Oh.”

Bruce kisses Clark soundly on his way to the bathroom.

“Alfred’s not my husband, not even my lover and actually, just thinking about it makes me want to die in a fire.” He says with a smug smirk. “So don’t give me that wounded puppy look, alright?”

“I don’t look like a wounded puppy.”

“Of course not,” Bruce agrees sternly, “you’re the big, strong alpha dog who’s going to prepare some breakfast.”

“Fine.” Clark gets up as well. “But I’m gonna shower first. You’ll have to wait.”

“We can shower together. You were once very passionate about the idea.”

“Have you seen the size of my bathroom? I won’t stand anymore damage… No, my salary won’t stand it.”

“I’ve told you not to worry.” Bruce shushes him with another kiss. “Come on, daddy’s gonna wash your back.”

\---

“You grew up on a farm?” Bruce asks, looking at the pictures on Clark’s fridge.

“Yep” Clark replies, careful not to burn the pancakes. “Smallville, Kansas.”

_ "Kansas." _ Bruce hugs him from behind. “My favorite state.”

“Oh really?” Clark leans into the touch. “Why is that?”

“I don’t know. Must be something about big, healthy, all-American boys harvesting grain.”

“My family grows corn,” Clark corrects. “We used to have some animals, too. Had to work hard since I was very young. My work jeans were ragged.”

“Good lord,” Bruce moans in his ear.

“Mhmm. In the summer I usually worked in the field without my shirt on. You know, at some point it was just too hot and I was sweating…”

“Clark,” there is a warning in Bruce’s voice. “My cock actually  _ hurts." _

“Does it? Well then, you probably don’t want to hear about that one time I’ve found Pa’s porn mags hidden in the barn…”

“Stop” Bruce begs quietly, face buried in Clark’s hair.

“Nah, I’m having too much fun,” Clark says with a smile and flips the bacon sizzling on the other pan.

“If I knew you back then, you wouldn’t work in the field,” Bruce says, voice wrecked. “You wouldn’t go to school, or to church, or wear clothes for that matter. You would just sit on my dick like it was your day job.”

“Ma would be so proud of me,” Clark says wistfully. “Now  _ shoo, _ you pervy old goat. Make yourself useful and set the table.”

“Can’t, I’m too rich for that.”

“For the love of everything that’s good and holy, don’t make slap you.”

Bruce chuckles and steps aside, pressing a smooch on Clark’s neck.

They eat their breakfast while listening to the radio, both too hungry and tired to strike a proper conversation.

_ “And now it’s time for our number one hit – “Emotions” by Karolee Warren. Rumor has it that last night she was on a date with a very famous billionaire. Know who I’m talking about? Oh yeah… Keep it up, lovebirds! I’m rooting for you!” _

“Karolee!” Bruce snaps his fingers triumphantly. “Now I remember!”

“Is that so,” Clark gives him a pointed look.

“Stop frowning, sugar,” Bruce smirks, “I also remember who quite literally fucked me through the mattress.”

“You better do if you want this to happen again.”

“Speaking of which,” Bruce pours more syrup on his pile of pancakes, “how would you like to spend the next weekend in Gotham?”

Clark really, really tries to look like he is  _ considering _ it.

“I think I would like that very much,” he says.

There is something predatory in Bruce’s gaze.

“Trust me, you’re going to have the time of your life.”

\---

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is dedicated to Henry Cavill's [absolutely](http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8180/8065940081_e02dc6a952_b.jpg) [incredible](https://kanbyamadworld.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/henry-cavill-2xcvx.jpg) [eyes](https://24.media.tumblr.com/59032b225a3d82596b650664105c8d91/tumblr_my13e9pWkh1rei3gfo1_500.gif).


End file.
